A Beginning with No End
by DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: "And every day was a new beginning, a new challenge that needed to be tackled, a new fear that had to be faced. But for his daughter he would do it all." My entries for Knight Rook: A History - Beginnings over on tumblr. Contains Knight Rook, Golden Rook and Curious Archer. Lots of angst and fluff.
1. Day 1 - Tower Tales

**A/N: I have four chapters and I'll post the other three over the next few days. This is a bit short but the others get longer. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

It was the end. The end of his piracy, the end of his captainship, the end of his whole life. But it didn't feel like an end. He knew what an end felt like, he'd been through quite a few of those. Adventures, missions, relationships - a significant number of those had ended in disaster. And of course he'd put an end to a few lives himself. But this didn't feel like an end.

As he climbed up the tower to get to his daughter, he thought it was the beginning of a new phase of his life. A phase in which he'd put every selfish desire aside and he'd always put his daughter first. It was the beginning of fatherhood and he knew it wouldn't be easy-just like climbing a tower when you have a hook instead of a hand wasn't-but for his daughter he was willing to do anything.

And so he chose her a beautiful name, he learned how to change diapers, he learned to tell why she was crying, he learned which songs and stories helped her fall asleep faster. He learned and learned and learned. And every day was a new beginning, a new challenge that needed to be tackled, a new fear that had to be faced. But for his daughter he would do it all. Because she was his little miracle and every time he looked at her, his heart filled with happiness. Because the first time she smiled at him, he knew there was nothing in the world he could treasure more than that smile. Because the first time she called him papa, he knew that even the sound of the sea couldn't compare with the one of her voice. Because when she made her first step, he knew that no other journey could ever bring him more joy than that of fatherhood.

The only thing that could cast a shadow on that happiness was the damned curse that kept his precious Alice trapped in that bloody tower. And one night when she'd just turned two and was lying sprawled on his chest, looking like the most adorable starfish he'd ever seen, he swore he'd find a way to get her out of that tower. He'd failed at avenging Milah's death but he would get his starfish out of her prison. Because she deserved the world, and the ocean, and the stars, and he would make sure she would have her happy beginning. Just like she'd made sure he had his when she'd come into the world.


	2. Day 2 - Separation Anxiety

**A/N: Here's my entry for Day 2. I hope you enjoy! Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

Her first night alone was a nightmare. Of course, her father had spent nights away before. But that was the first time Alice knew for sure he wouldn't be coming back. Ever. And what was worse was that she couldn't say the same for that woman. The witch. She spent all night shaking in a state of sleepless terror, her heart skipping a beat every time she heard a noise and thought the witch might have come back for her now that her papa wasn't there to protect her.

She was so tired that she fell asleep while she was painting the next day–she needed something to take her mind off of the nightmare that was playing on repeat in her mind and while painting didn't completely succeed in that, there was nothing else for her to do–and woke up only when she felt the wetness of the paint on her face that was pressed against the canvas. And when she went to bed that night, she had to deprive herself from the little comfort that Mr Hatter could offer her because he was still wet from her tears the previous night.

For weeks she suffered from insomnia, only falling asleep when she was too tired not to. And every time she heard a noise, her heart leapt into her throat, pounding as if it wanted to claw its way out. Usually when she couldn't sleep, a bedtime story would always help her, but those were lost to her too now that there was no one to tell them to her and the thought of that only had her swallowing her tears again so she tried to avoid it.

It wasn't until she started talking to her stuffed animals that it occurred to her that they were probably scared too. Of course they were. The witch was powerful and there was no one to stop her from attacking them at any given moment. So Alice looked for ways to defeat their fears and make sure that they've had their rest too. But nothing seemed to be able to quell their–and her–worries.

Until one day Alice just couldn't take it anymore. They all needed the curling anxiety in the pits of their stomachs to be banished for good.

"Alright, Mr Hatter, everybody, tonight I'll tell you a story," she said as she tucked them in bed. Knowing that they were warm and comfortable warmed her heart. "But not just any kind of story." She smiled conspiratorially at her companions. "It's my favorite bedtime story." Her mind flew back to when her papa used to tell it to her but she ignored the pangs in her chest, focusing her attention on her audience. She couldn't get swept up in grief now, she had to take care of them. "Trust me, this will work like a charm," she said as she looked at the white rabbit. "It always worked with me," she reassured again and began an epic tale about mermaids and storms, pirates and sea monsters, shipwrecks and lost treasures.

She hadn't even finished the story when she started yawning, her mind too engulfed in unbelievable adventures for her to be scared. "I'm sorry, everyone," she said as she covered her mouth with her hand, "but it seems that the story is working its miracle. We'll have to finish it tomorrow." She yawned again, her eyelids heavy with sleep. "Good night, Mr Hatter, everyone," she said as she closed her eyes. Knowing that her companions would have a serene sleep, free of nightmares, allowed her to sleep soundly too.


	3. Day 4 - Hyperion Heights

**A/N: Chapter 3 is here with some Weaver and Tilly angst and fluff. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

The wood of the bench was cold against her legs that were only clad in tights but at least it gave her something else to focus on other than the rumbling of her stomach. It was ridiculoрus. She had a watch worth enough to pay for her food for the next month in her backpack but she hadn't managed to sell it just yet and until that happened the only thing it was good for was to get her in trouble. She could always steal some food but the owner of the watch probably wanted it back and she thought it best to lay low for a while. Just in case the police were looking for it and, respectively, for her. Plus, she wasn't fond of stealing; she only did it to survive. She'd be happy to do something else. Anything else really. She was good at drawing but couldn't afford art classes, or even materials, and nobody wanted to take a chance on a street rat like her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a shadow was cast over her. The bench creaked when the person sat next to her and Tilly looked up, curious to see who it was, but her gaze quickly darkened when she saw him. "Detective," she said curtly, resisting the urge to grab her backpack and go, knowing very well that he'd follow her and she'd only end up in more trouble.

"Hello, Tilly," Weaver smiled at her pleasantly and she knew he'd want something from her. "I need your help," he didn't disappoint.

"What for?" she asked, her gaze cast downwards as she pretended to be picking at the fabric of her jacket, hoping he'd get the hint.

"You know the Heights well," Weaver continued, unfazed by her disinterest. "You're exactly the kind of person I need to be my informant."

That had her look at him, eyes wide in shock, but he met her gaze calmly. "No," she shook her head vigorously and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "I know what you do. I won't help you hurt people."

"The people you steal from, you mean?" Weaver leaned back against the wood of the bench, holding her gaze.

"No. No, that's not the same," she shook her head even more frantically now at the thought he was trying to put in her mind. "I'm only trying to survive." She felt tears gathering in her eyes but she was resolute not to cry in front of him. "I don't want to do anyone any harm." She pressed her lips together to show him that that was her final answer.

"You'll do yourself harm," Weaver leaned towards her, emphasizing his words. "I'll arrest you for stealing."

"You don't have any proof," she fired back, determined not to give into his attempted intimidation.

"How much do you want to bet that when I open this," he gestured to her backpack that was sitting between them, "I'll find that expensive watch that was stolen earlier today?" he aske d, staring at her with a hint of a smirk. When the only answer he received was an indignant pout, he reached for the backpack but Tilly's hands flew out of her pockets and she grabbed it, pulling it towards herself.

"I'll take that as acceptance of my proposal," he said, retracting his hand, the smugness tangible in his voice. "If you help me, I'll help you," he said, his voice softer this time, as he stood up from the bench. "I know a guy that will give you a good price for that watch," he threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

Tilly sat with her arms wrapped around her backpack; she was clutching it as if her life depended on it and her gaze was fixed on a spot at the pavement but she couldn't even see it clearly. She didn't want this, any of it. She'd heard horrible things about Weaver and his ways. She didn't want to help him. But she couldn't go to jail. She couldn't. Just the thought of being trapped between four walls, unable to feel the breeze on your skin... No. Anything but that. She'd rather sleep in her cold boxcar for the rest of her life instead of being a prisoner. Something in her very core resented the thought of that. So she'd have to help Weaver. But she sure as hell would go out of her way to give him as little information as possible. She wouldn't lift a finger in an attempt to help him. Or so she thought.

It started simple. He kept his word and helped her sell the watch. With the money she could afford a better heater for her boxcar. And she now knew who she could go to if she needed to sell another watch although she'd been avoiding stealing those, seeing how that was what got her into that mess. And yet, Weaver didn't need to fish for answers from her anymore.

Then Weaver started bringing her sandwiches. He insisted he'd bought them for himself but they'd messed up his order. She knew that wasn't the case. He always brought her different sandwiches until one day she was very vocal about the taste of a certain orange marmalade one. After that he only brought her those. And she answered his questions thoroughly, giving him as much information as she had.

On a few occasions Weaver brought her clothes. He insisted that they were confiscated but not only were they still sporting their price tags, but they were also approximately her size. There were some that weren't exactly a perfect fit but overall he'd gotten them quite right. And she found herself snooping for information, dressed in her new warm clothes.

And then there was that time when she almost got arrested. She'd stolen a bracelet and sold her to Weaver's guy but apparently she'd picked the wrong piece of jewelry. It was custom-made and obviously treasured by the owner since the police had been mobilized and they'd traced it back to her. The officers were just handcuffing her as the tears streamed down her face and she struggled, desperately trying to avoid imprisonment, when Weaver showed up, driving far over the speed limit. He jumped out of his car and made them let her go, insisting it was all part of an undercover job she'd been doing for him. And so the handcuffs were gone as soon as they'd appeared and she was free again.

"Thank you," she said, looking down at her boots, the salty tracks still visible on her cheeks.

"What will I do without my informant?" he asked jokingly but when she looked at him, she saw warmth in his eyes.

She threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He stiffened, shocked by the hug, but returned it eventually.

"Thank you," she whispered before she pulled away.

"You already said that," he noted, looking more confused than annoyed.

"For caring for me," she said, wondering if maybe she'd finally been assigned a fairy godmother. Or in this case – a detective godfather.


	4. Day 5 - Happily Ever After

**A/N: Last entry. Curious Archer and Knight Rook because I thought I'd go out with a bang and have both in one place. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

The apartment was silent save for the scraping of carton against carton every time one of them opened a box and the occasional gasp at the contents of those carton boxes. They'd received a lot of gifts from friends and family with which to furnish and decorate their new apartment and make it feel like a real home. So much so that they still hadn't managed to unpack everything despite having moved in more than two weeks ago. Of course that might have had something to do with the fact that Robin was constantly distracting her from the work at hand.

During the days they were both at work, now promoted to the bosses of Roni's and Sabine's food truck respectively since the two women who previously ran them were now busy with royal duties. But they'd spend the evenings cuddling on the couch, drinking various liquids–from water to hard liquor–out of tea cups because they still hadn't unpacked the mugs and the glasses which Alice had expected to happen at some point since Robin was always complaining that they had to move from their comfortable positions every time one of them needed a refill and that was often, considering the capacity of the tea cups. They'd use the same shower gel, although Alice had to admit that that was only natural since they were showering together – to save water and all that ecological stuff. And they'd constantly wear each other's clothes when they went to bed at night, both saying that they couldn't find their own in the grand mess that was their apartment at the moment.

Alice looked around the room with a fond smile. It wasn't a big apartment but it was theirs and they'd already made memories in the few days they were there. She caught Robin's eye and her love smiled at her, causing Alice's own smile to grow. They could communicate without words and the silence was comfortable, not at all like the one in her tower that had been so unsettling; it didn't bother her because she could feel Robin's presence and knew she would always be there for her.

She was just about to open the next box when her phone rang and she paused to get it out of the pocket of her jeans. Her face immediately lit up when she looked at the screen. "Hello, papa," she greeted him enthusiastically after picking up, beaming when he called her 'starfish', but her face quickly fell. "Oh, no, I- I'm afraid I can't right now. Robin and I are unpacking," her voice cracked at the rejection of his offer to meet him and even after he reassured her it was fine, she still felt like she'd let him down. "I'll see you as soon as I can, papa. I promise," she said, trying not to sound too dejected, and hung up. She looked at the phone screen, her thumb rubbing the side of the device as if to comfort it when she was the one who needed comfort.

And as if she'd voiced it, Robin's hand was on her shoulder, offering her quiet support.

She reached for it and covered it with her own, her eyes still on the phone screen as if she was hoping she could open a portal in it through which her father would appear.

"Alice," Robin called to her, gently snapping her out of her thoughts. "Why don't you go out with him?"

Alice's eyes moved back to the still large amount of boxes, "But we still need to-"

"I'll handle it," Robin cupped her cheek, drawing her attention back to her, and smiled at her.

"Are you sure?" Alice grasped Robin's hand with both of hers despite still holding her phone.

"Yeah," Robin nodded once and squeezed her fingers. "Go," she urged, disentangling from her.

"Thank you." Alice kissed her cheek, the smile back on her face, and headed for the door but stopped halfway and turned back to her love. "Why don't you come with us?"

"Alice!" Robin put her hand over her heart theatrically as if the suggestion wounded her deeply. "How can I leave all these boxes alone? They'll miss me."

Alice smiled at her fiance's antics. "You sure you can handle them?"

"I'll be fine. After all, it's kinda my fault we haven't unpacked yet."

Alice quickly ran back to Robin to give her a brief kiss. "I love you," she said as she left, hearing Robin's 'Love you too' before the door closed behind her.

She ran out on the street, impatient to see her father. She looked at the phone, thinking about calling him, but she quickly shoved it in her pocket, deciding to surprise him. Her father now lived close by and with the quick pace she'd settled into, she was in front of his door in no time. She knocked, her heart ponding in her chest with excitement and the few moments he took to open the door felt like eternity.

"Starfish," her father beamed when he saw her.

"Papa," she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. They hadn't had much time together those past few weeks with her and Robin moving, and working, and whatnot.

They quickly headed out on a quest for ice cream. Alice chose to have Chunky Monkey, finding the name extremely funny and pleasing, while her papa opted for the Rocky Road. Alice insisted on paying and, after a short argument, her father gave in and let her do it.

Alice licked her ice cream and smiled. "You know, it's nice to pay for things with the money you've earned instead of stealing."

Her father stopped dead in his tracks. "Al-"

"No, it's okay," she said quickly, hearing the guilt in his voice, as she turned around. She'd just made an observation. She hadn't wanted to ruin the mood or blame anyone. Least of all her father who didn't have any fault.

"I wish I could've been there for you," her papa spoke with effort, his eyes cast downwards.

"You were," she took a step back and took his hand in hers.

"All the way through," he said, still not looking at her.

"Ella told me what you did for them," Alice said, realizing that she might have started the wrong way when he finally met her gaze and she saw the fearful look in his eyes. "For all of us," she continued, squeezing his hand to emphasize her words. "That decision played a big part in the breaking of the Curse and that's what matters," she explained when she noticed his confusion. "I wasn't the only one to suffer," she felt tears gathering in her eyes at the memories of their cursed lives and the pain they'd all been through. "But now we're all happy. Together."

"Starfish," her father pulled her closer and hugged her and she held on to him tightly. It was still hard to believe that he could hold her in his arms again but there was no day when she didn't think of Rumple's noble deed that allowed that to happen. And there was no day when she wasn't grateful for it and didn't pray for Rumple to be in a better place with his beloved wife.

"Al," her papa's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hm?" she mumbled into his chest, unwilling to let go of the moment just yet.

"I think you just wiped your ice cream into my shirt."

She abruptly pulled away at that and they both saw the stain of ice cream on the black cloth. "At least it's not your vest, Captain," she spoke after a moment of shock and grinned as she pulled on his hand, dragging him back to his apartment.


End file.
